


Heaven's Gonna Wait For You

by lovedsammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Fluff, Heaven, M/M, Sastiel reunite in Heaven, dad!sam because i am in PAIN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27770635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovedsammy/pseuds/lovedsammy
Summary: Sam Winchester dies on a Thursday.For Castiel, it’s a somewhat poetic, if not comforting gesture. He is the Angel of Thursday, after all.  Of all of the beings in the universe, he has the privilege of being here to help guide Sam into the next life, a life that Cas will soon join him - and Dean - in.
Relationships: Castiel & Jack Kline, Castiel & Jack Kline & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Jack Kline & Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester & Dean Junior
Comments: 6
Kudos: 80





	Heaven's Gonna Wait For You

**Author's Note:**

> I personally LOVED the finale. It was the perfect ending to me. But I needed to write some coda for Sastiel, because their last encounter made me too sad and the fact that Sam never got to say goodbye or grieve Cas properly. Plus, it’s an excuse to write for Sam and Dean Junior (who I will call DJ in this fic at a few points for simplicity’s sake and plus I think it’s cute!) who own my entire ass.

They start just as bedtime stories meant to soothe his fussy toddler. He talks about the little things at first, things that Sam is sure the boy is much too young to pick up on. They’re things that Sam has kept close to his heart all of these years later, things that no one but he and his son are allowed to know. 

When DJ gets a little older, Sam tells him all about his uncle Dean, and how he got his namesake from him. 

He tells him about his grandparents Mary and John, about Bobby. He tells him about Jack. 

And he tells him about Cas.

“Angels are real?” He remembers seven-year-old Dean asking him once, eyes wide-eyed in childish awe. Sam remembers that wonder all too easily, remembers how he’d felt that same awe as a young twenty-six-year-old man who’d met an angel for the very first time. 

Sam smiles, wipes the stray strands of hair away from DJ’s - Dean’s - forehead. “They’re real, buddy. Castiel… Cas, he was special. A special angel. He always protected me and Dean. He healed us when we were hurt, and he helped us. He was a good friend. He was family. And I’m sure that, somehow, somewhere, he’s watching over you, too.”

Castiel was way more than a friend, at one point, Sam thinks, but there’s no way he can ever tell DJ that. Those are feelings that Sam can keep only to himself. He tucks his son in to sleep and goes about the rest of his night, although the memories of blue eyes and disheveled hair clings to him like his ghosts.

-

“How did Cas die?”

Sam’s been perched over DJ’s homework with him for over an hour now, and some of the questions are making his head spin a little. Even as a Stanford graduate, he still gets stumped on some of the newer stuff that the kids are expected to learn these days. But it’s this particular question from his son that makes Sam pause. 

DJ is eleven now, old enough to understand death, the finality of it. And the way he watches his father expectantly, but patiently, makes Sam realize that there are certain things that he won’t be able to protect him from, or hide from him forever.

Sam swallows. “He saved Dean. He died doing that.” He doesn’t want to scare him, so he tells his son, “And then he was just gone.”

DJ contemplates his father’s words, his brow furrowed, eyes sad. He inherited many of Sam’s expressions, the hooded eyes and far-away gaze when he’s upset being one of them. After a moment, he speaks again. “You didn’t get to say goodbye?” 

“No. No, I didn’t,” Sam answers softly. “I wish I could’ve. There were a lot of things that I wish I could’ve told him.” 

“Like that you loved him?” 

Sam’s heart skips several beats, and the well-developed, put-together mask that he always tries to keep in place for his son’s sake shatters. “W-what?”

Seeing the stricken expression on his father’s face, DJ grasps Sam’s wrist, a comforting gesture. He always was too quick on picking up on Sam’s tumultuous moods, so quick to always try and resolve them. He’s lost track of the number of times DJ has aroused him awake from his nightmares, stayed with him until his tears dried. Sam was the father, but his son helped him in more ways than he could really comprehend sometimes. They protected each other that way. “It’s okay, Daddy,” He says, voice small, his smile warm. “He loved you too. I can tell by how he looks at you in the pictures.” 

That night, for the first time in almost ten years, Sam falls asleep with Castiel’s picture at his bedside along with Dean’s instead of in a scrapbook. 

And he weeps for the loss of them both. 

\- 

After Castiel awakens, coming to terms with the fact that he’s alive once more, that Jack is the new God, he asks of them - the Winchesters.

“Sam and Dean? Are they…?” He can hear the fear in his own voice, too afraid to know the answer. 

But Jack smiles, calming Cas’s fears. “They’re alive. They miss us. But they’re alive. We’ll see them again soon. And when we do, it should be in a better Heaven, where they’re finally at peace and don’t have to lose us or anyone else ever again. Let’s make things better for them, like how they deserve.”

So they get busy.

They start by tearing down Heaven’s walls, integrating all of the Heavens together so everyone can be with each other. Jack’s vision of Heaven is similar to Earth, a paradise that looks very much like the world but without pain, fear, or loss. There’s nothing here but endless joy and peace. 

The one thing they don’t change is Sam and Dean’s shared Heaven; which is always the one thing that Castiel felt that original Heaven - that Chuck - got right.

They get Bobby out of Heaven’s lock up, make his personal one better too. Bobby is happy to see Cas, and is immediately fond of Jack. 

“Sounds like you all did a damn good job with that one.” Bobby laughs.

Cas looks at Jack, looks at the byproduct and his and Sam and Dean’s parental rearing, and nods. “Yes. Yes, we did.” 

After that, they move on to retrieving some of the now-awake dead angels from the Empty, and Cas has the honor of putting it to sleep, finally. It’s while they’re doing this that Jack grimaces. A lost, somber expression comes over his face.

“Jack? What is it?” Castiel asks, and feels a jolt of fear.

Jack looks up, his features similar to a young boy’s again, and not the creator of worlds. “It’s Dean,” He whispers, stunned. “He’s dead.” 

-

They don’t plan to go see Dean. Not right away. Not until it’s time. 

“What about Sam?” Castiel asks, because all he can think about now is Sam, living alone, without anyone. “Is he..?”

Jack is silent for a long moment, eyes closed in concentration. “He’s okay,” Jack says, lips curving into a small smile. “It took him a little while, but... he’s fighting. He’s living.” 

Somehow, that doesn’t surprise Castiel. Sam has always been so strong, so capable. But he also knows Sam. He knows the younger Winchester’s heart and soul, knows how much pain he’s already endured, how hard it is for Sam to stop himself from breaking apart. 

If he’s living now, he’s doing it for one reason and one reason only - because Dean asked him to. 

Castiel wants to check on him, watch over him, to see him. 

Jack catches his eye, and can tell what Castiel is thinking by the longing expression on his face, and shakes his head. “Soon, Cas,” He says gently. “I promise.” 

-

Time, as always, eventually passes. 

He and Jack sometimes make it a habit of going to see the soon-to-depart, to offer them comfort in the final moments of their lives, always unseen, of course. Jack is true to his word about being an off-hands God, choosing not to interfere with the natural order, but being loving and empathetic to those who are still tied to it. Jack’s love for humanity is unparalleled, purer in so many ways that Chuck’s had not been. Every time Castiel looks at Jack, he sees divinity, grace, and strength. Castiel knows now that Jack Kline was his single greatest accomplishment. It took some adjusting, some planning, but the angel works as Jack’s right-hand now, doing the duties that Death had once done, becoming the barrier between the living world and the one beyond.

Today, the list is relatively short. They ease the deceased souls to the gates, make sure that everything is in order back in Heaven, and Castiel thinks that maybe he and Jack will finally get back to finishing rebuilding some of the other worlds that they’ve temporarily put a pin in. 

But that’s not the plan. 

“There’s one more,” Jack tells him offhandedly. “He’s had… a little difficulty in the transition process.” 

It’s not unexpected news. Although Rowena has been good about not letting her demons make claims on souls, there are those that slip through the cracks and a human becomes earmarked for Hell through deals. Those cases always require a little more time, a little more care. Other times, the soul is just struggling, trying to fight the inevitable, trying to find a reason to stay. And rarely, there are those who’ve died before and come back, and the celestial ‘paperwork’ has to be shredded. 

“Who are we collecting?” Castiel asks, piqued. These souls are the ones he always feels the most earnest need to help, and the ones who give him the most satisfaction when they are able to finally go where they belong. 

Jack gives him a sad smile. “Sam,” He says. 

-

Sam Winchester dies on a Thursday. 

For Castiel, it’s a somewhat poetic, if not comforting gesture. He is the Angel of Thursday, after all. Of all of the beings in the universe, he has the privilege of being here to help guide Sam into the next life, a life that Cas will soon join him - and Dean - in. 

The angel stands besides Jack in the living room, invisible to the naked eye. For the first time, he wishes to be seen, wishes he could reach out to soothe Sam. Even knowing that he and Jack have done all that they have in order to give Sam and Dean a better life on the other side, it’s still an instinctive, almost natural reaction for Castiel to want to heal Sam’s pain. 

Sam is older - so much older - now. Castiel can hardly believe it. The younger Winchester’s hair is greyish white, distinctive age lines covering his once youthful face, lying prone on his back in a hospital bed with only machines keeping him alive. He struggles to breathe, a deep rasping emanating from his lungs.

“Cancer,” Jack says by way of explanation. “It’s been a rough few years. There’s so many times that I hear him say that he wants to just… give up, and stop fighting. But he doesn’t, because he still has a reason here.” 

Castiel can’t think of anything that would make Sam Winchester want to live in a world without Dean in it, not when he’s this close to the end. What reason would Sam have left to stay? 

A young man suddenly comes into the room to sit at Sam’s bedside, and without question, Castiel knows who he is, can’t mistake the resemblance.

Sam’s son. 

Cas is shaken to his core, heartbreak and love battling for dominance within his heart. Sam had lived a long, somewhat happy life. Sam had carried on after Dean had died, met someone, had a child. He’d become the incredible father that Cas had always believed that Sam could be, and was now dying a natural death. 

“Dad,” His son says, reaching for his father’s hand. Sam stares at him in adoration and sorrow, eyes conveying what his body is unable to. He doesn’t want to leave his son, Castiel realizes. This boy was the only thing still tying him to the Earth.

And yet… he knows that Sam also wants to go to Dean. Sam is waiting for permission, waiting for someone else to make the choice for him. 

“He was supposed to die days ago,” Jack admits. “But I… I didn’t want to take that choice from him, not like how Chuck did, Cas. He deserved to be able to go once he…” 

“Once he knew that his child would be okay,” Cas finishes, choking back emotion. This was how things were supposed to go. Fathers die, and their sons bury them. 

Jack nods. “He stayed with me when I died. I felt that it was right for me to… to be here for when he did. For both of his sons to be with him at the end.”

Castiel takes a moment to look around the room, captivated by the beautiful shrine that Sam is currently lying beneath, a shrine dedicated to Dean, to Mary, to John - to Sam’s family. There is another picture among them, one of a youthful boy that is unmistakably Sam’s son, labeled as DJ: Dean junior. 

“It’s okay,” Dean junior assures his father. “You can go now.” 

Recognition flashes in Sam’s eyes, along with unconditional love. Peace comes over his features whereas before there had been fear, worry, conflict. This was the sign that Sam had been waiting for, the permission to let go.

He weakly places his withering hand over DJ’s, wanting to be connected to his boy until the end. A single tear slides down Sam’s cheek as he turns his head, releasing a final, shallow breath, and Cas cries with him. Sam’s chest goes still. Immediately, the monitors begin to blare, and Cas watches as Sam flat lines, his heart no longer beating. 

Or more accurately, what had been left of it; Castiel has a feeling that most of Sam’s heart had stopped beating the day he’d lost his brother. It had only functioned at fifty percent after that, only for his son, his other Dean.

“Come on,” Jack says finally, turning away, wiping a sleeve down his face. Even being God, Castiel realizes that it’s still painful for Jack to watch those he loves die. “We’ll need to get back to meet him there. To guide him home..” 

Cas feels like he’s in a haze. Slowly, he comes back to himself, starts moving away, too. 

But a faint prayer makes him stop short.

 _Jack,_ it says. Sam. _Jack, I’m on my way. To Heaven. To Dean. I know you’re busy, but... if you can, please look out for my boy, okay? For your little brother. Keep him safe._

The voice disappears, and Jack looks pointedly at Cas. Because while Jack won’t be able to interfere, Castiel can. He presses a gentle hand on DJ’s shoulder, offering as much comfort as he can without letting him know that he’s there. And then like a wave, a barrage of memories come over the angel. 

Of Sam holding his newborn son in his arms. 

Sam walking with two-year-old DJ in the park.

Sam and DJ playing ball. 

Sam helping DJ with his homework.

Sam holding his son’s hand as the ink of the tattoo dries, bearing it with honor like a family crest. 

Sam, in his old age, admitting: “He did love me. And I loved Cas, too.” 

Castiel breaks from the trance, gasping. He pulls away. He has yet another new purpose in his eternal existence. 

He will watch over Sam Winchester’s son.

-

Sam feels complete, whole, when he reaches Heaven. 

Dean is, naturally, the first person he sees. There is so much that Sam wants to tell him, so much that he wants to explain. But there’s all the time in the world for that. They have eternity, after all. 

“Heaven’s beautiful,” Sam breathes, taking it all in as he rides where he belongs: at his brother’s side in the Impala. He’s never felt more at peace. He is proud, too, for the first time in his existence. So incredibly proud, not just of the work that he and Dean had done, but to have raised his first son well enough that Jack had created paradise for all of humanity. “Jack… he really did this.” 

He and Dean and Cas… they had all done their part, after all. 

“Yeah, he apparently wanted to make it perfect for us.” Dean shrugs, but his eyes shine with pride. After a beat he adds, “well, him and Cas.” 

Happiness and pure relief surge through Sam’s veins. “Cas… he’s here? He’s really...?” 

“Yeah, Sammy,” Dean smiles knowingly, patting his brother on the shoulder. “He’s here, too. It’s amazing, right?”

Is there no limit to how much happiness a now-dead human being can feel? He wants to weep in euphoria. “It’s perfect.”

They go and visit their mother and father, and Bobby, and even Jess. There is no regret or guilt here, no pain, or loss, or agony. Sam had expected to be overcome by it when he finally met them all again, wanting to apologize over and over. He does apologize, but there’s no negativity attached to the words. There are no hard feelings. There’s just forgiveness, love, and content.

Around beers with all of his family, he tells them about DJ, tells his mother and father that they’re grandparents, that Bobby is an honorary grandfather, too. Dean is stunned into silence the entire time, but his eyes are wet by the time Sam finishes telling his story. 

When they’re left alone, Dean sits back in his chair. “It sounds like you were happy, Sammy.” He says, and he genuinely means it. “I’m so glad. I’m so damn proud of you. I always knew you were dad material.” 

Sam chokes back a laugh - or a sob, he’s not sure - and relishes in it, because Dean is not going to disappear this time. “I tried to be,” Sam mumbles, swiping a thumb across his eye. “I really did. I lived for you, and for him, and… oh, Dean, he already loved you.” 

“I can’t wait to meet him. But not too soon, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Sam agrees easily. 

At some point, Mary comes to get them. “Boys,” She grins. “There’s someone outside who’d like to see you. He’s been waiting for a while.” 

Sam and Dean exchange excited looks, get up in unison and dart to the door. 

-

When Castiel sees him - them - for the first time in so very long, he weeps. 

Sam and Dean are the picture of perfect health, of beauty and familiarity. Castiel was happy with Jack, the happiest that he’s ever been, until now. Now a piece of him that was missing remedies itself, making him whole. 

“Sam,” He gasps out. “Dean.” 

There’s pure joy on both of their faces. He’s never once seen either of them look like that, so at home with themselves and each other. 

“Cas!” 

Sam sprints forward first, engulfing Cas in his warm, strong arms, just as remarkable as Castiel remembers. He can feel Sam shaking with sobs and places a comforting hand on the back of his head. “You’re really… you’re really here.” 

“I’m here,” Cas says. 

A weight is suddenly added to them, and Cas realizes that Dean hadn’t waited for Sam to separate from Cas, but instead joined in, holding both of them close. 

Although there is no perception of time in Heaven, they stay huddled together for a decade on earth.

-

Cas comes to find Sam in his room later - in the house they now all share together. It’s multi-level, so everyone can have time for themselves if need be. Just as easily as it was when they were alive, like puzzles falling into place, Sam scoots over on the bed, making room for Cas. 

Sam lowers his head to Castiel’s chest. 

“I know it’s not like how it was,” He starts. “I know there are things we never got around to, or talked about. But -” 

“No, Sam,” Cas smiles. “It’s better.” 

Sam exhales, hadn’t realized that had been something that he’d needed to hear. “Are you gonna stay, or…?” 

“For a while,” Cas says. “Jack and I still have a lot of work to do. We’ll always have work to do. But over time, it’ll lessen, and then… I’ll be here. There is one particular task that I must still attend to that requires me to check in from time to time, but otherwise…” 

Sam turns his head, looking up at him. “What’s that?”

Cas’s smile widens. “DJ, of course.” At Sam’s shocked expression, he continues. “He’s wonderful, Sam. I was there, when you died. Jack and I both were. We heard your prayer.” 

Sam is overwhelmed by the revelation, can only nod his head.

“And,” Cas shifts so that he’s able to cup Sam’s face in his hands. “I do love you, Sam. I’m sorry that I never got the chance to properly say it before I died. I’m so sorry that you had to traverse through life alone, until you had your son. But I am glad, honored, that I was the one who was able to be there with you at your end.” 

“Cas,” Sam croaks, “I…” 

Castiel is suddenly tired of waiting. He surges forward and kisses Sam, heatedly, passionately. Sam kisses back, just as fiercely. There’s no need to breathe up here, no need for air. They take their time, really getting the chance to learn each other. Finally, Sam pulls away, a full dimpled-smile on his lips. 

“When you go back, could you, uh… I don’t know, indiscreetly give DJ twenty bucks?” 

The angel squints at him. “Why?” 

“Because,” Sam laughs. “He kinda won a bet about you and me.” 


End file.
